All I Ever Wanted
by javu
Summary: My first completed JILLY fanfiction. A one-shot. Based the title off of "All I Ever Wanted" by Basshunter. I really do love Jilly. Enjoy!


All of my life, For the majority of my life, I have always gotten all I ever wanted. Every present I hoped to receive I had unwrapped under the Christmas tree, for every dish my stomach grumbled for my mum made, and every compliment I thought was worth me found its way on my head as a garnish. In the halls of Hogwarts I have had countless girls swoon over the state of my hair, and I have gotten away with more pranks, jokes, and various _amusements _than Padfoot has had with girls; and between you, me, and him that's saying something. My grades are fantastic; despite my rule-breaking habits, teachers can't but acknowledge my brilliance. I have a completely developed animagus form and I'm not even of age yet. And it always brings my heart great joy when the entire Gryffindor house roars my surname to such a volume that no other sound can be heard.

Suck it.

So, knowing full well how fabulous I am, you can image my surprise when I come across something that is out of my reach. You would think that with my aura of awesomeness I would get all I ever wanted. No, that I _should_ get all I ever wanted. I mean, I'm a bloody Marauder, for Merlin's sake, and that's reputable enough. I almost feel bad for complaining because I practically do get everything I want. Well, okay, there are a few exceptions: Like how most of the girls that swoon over me also swoon over Sirius. Understandable. If I was a girl I'd be crazy over his hair like everyone else. Then, of course, there are the girls that don't swoon over me or Padfoot. I _guess _I can understand that. Obviously my presence must be overwhelming, and some girls just like losers that are less . . . intimidating. And less awesome. But it's not my problem if they don't like me; that's totally their issue. And while the topic is at hand, correlation doesn't mean causation. Take a look at Asa Biggerstaff or Roger "Dodger" Helms, the Slytherin Beaters. They could be considered intimidating, but certainly not awesome. And for the record, I personally don't find them the least bit intimidating. I've just come to notice sometimes people scampering away from them in the hallways. I don't get intimidated by people, so I don't know what about Helms and Biggerstaff instills fear in the hearts of my wussy classmates. Size, perhaps? Good thing I have broad shoulders. I don't often see people who are awesome and not intimidating. Actually, I don't know of anyone that isn't awesome and not intimidating. Maybe they don't exist. Maybe it _is _correlation and causation! Well, there goes that theory. Don't really care though. So, the point: if you are simply intimidating, you suck, but if you are awesome _and _intimidating, like me, you rock every casserole from here to Durmstrang, as well as having all the girls swoon over you. Well, not all the girls. Not the stupid ones who go after loser blokes, but we've already discussed their issues. And, of course, not Lily Evans. The one girl I can never seem to get.

Merlin, I don't get that girl. I have everything. I have all and more than _she_ ever wanted. I've got muscle, I have brains, I have money and status, I'm funny – no, I'm hilarious – and Merlin isn't the only one who knows how much wit and cheek I possess. I'm clever and brave, just like my dad. My hair is as awesome as I am. I'm a great dueler. I'm great on a broomstick. I'm creative. And I'd have my socks knocked off if Biggerstaff, really did have a bigger staff than me.

My affections for Evans first developed in the fourth year. Flirting started out as pranking her, and in retrospect I admit that that wasn't the best idea. The pranks were nothing serious, merely casual, but for some reason, she always got really angry. The lesson learned was that Evans didn't like getting hexed or jinxed or befuddled, but it was a way to obtain her attention. Her eyes would flare up and her hair seemed to crackle. Overtime, bantering became the product of pranking, soon the sole method of flirting altogether. I first asked Evans out in our fifth year to the Valentines Hogsmeade visit. She turned me down, but I persisted until the end of the year.

But then in the beginning of term this year I noticed that Evans was hanging out with her Gryffindor girlfriends more than in previous years. More important is the fact that _Snivellus_ seemed absent from her social life; they weren't interacting.

"Oi, Evans!" I called out when I saw her pass Snivellus in the corridor without the slightest hint of recognition. "You break up with your boyfriend or somethin'?" She stopped walking abruptly and stood stiffly, fists clenched. I covered the few paces that separated us and gently grasped her elbow from behind to turn her to face me. She yanked away before I could complete the action and scowled.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Well, of course he's not. You broke up, right? So that makes him your ex-boyfriend." She gave me a look of disdain I know only too well.

"Shove _off,_ Potter."

"Aw, come now, Evans," I mock pleaded. "I'm just concerned for your well-being."

"Well-being, my arse," she snapped. I frowned; Evans never swore. "You just want to ask me out again!" Probably. And then before I could actually ask her out: "Why can't you just leave me alone?!" I blinked. Somebody was having a bad day. Then, can you believe it, she shoved me out of the way and continued walking.

I sighed and turned around to face my mates. I can imagine the confused, frustrated look was on my face.

"You still gonna chase after Evans this year, Prongsie?" Padfoot joked. I grimaced and ran my hand through my hair.

"What I don't get," I started, "is why she continues to put up the pretense of hate. Why doesn't she just admit that she has at least some kind of affection for me? Then we'd both be happy!" My friends stared blankly at me, apparently lost for words.

"Maybe you should just give her some space, Prongs," said Moony. Now it was my turn for the blank look. "Maybe if you just chilled for a bit, the hatred she reserves only for you might fade away. Then you could maybe start fresh and possibly become friends."

"Friends? But I want to be more than friends." I objected. Moony blinked patiently.

"I know, Prongs. I know."

"Then . . .?"

"Look. Why don't you take a vacation from pursuing her for a while?"

"Vacation?! You mean stop liking her?! I can't do that!"

"Why not? If you don't allow yourself to like her, then you won't bug her so much, right? So then she might loosen up around you and start liking you. Maybe. She'll choose to date you and then you'll rediscover how much you like her, and – voila! You'll have her."

I didn't like the sound of this notion. I am James Potter. I have a reputation to uphold. I can't just give up on Evans. No way. I want to win her; I want to woo her until her eyes sparkle up at me. Moony's idea seemed way too passive for me. It implies that I have to _let_ her come to me, as if she has a choice. Well, you see, I am Evan's only choice.

"Ah, but my dear Remus," I said airily. "Evan's couldn't _possibly_ choose to date anyone else but me! Your plan lacks direction, my friend."

"Oh, I think she could if she tried hard enough," sniggered Padfoot.

"Padfoot, your sarcasm is not appreciated."

"But really, _James,_" persisted Moony. "I really do think you should give Lily space."

"Yeah, mate," chipped in Padfoot. "It's not like she . . . erm," he hesitated. ". . . shares the intensity of your fascination."

"What are you talking about?" I exclaimed. "Of course she has feelings for me! Why do you think we argue so much?"

"Maybe because she doesn't like you?" Wormtail chipped in. First thing he adds to the conversation and he's dead wrong. I looked at him like he was a slug and turned to the other two. Unfortunately, they were delusional as well.

"You agree with him?" I asked Padfoot and Moony. They both shifted uncomfortably and avoided my gaze, which was an answer in itself.

"Well, just think about it, mate," said Sirius. "She argues with you-"

"-which is a way of flirting!"

"-she doesn't snog you-"

"-yet!"

"-and she doesn't sit and talk to you in class or at meals-"

"Okay, okay!" I interrupted. "I get it! She doesn't fancy me!" Even though I said it just to get those three off my back, the words stung as I said them. And then, as if speaking the words out loud made them true, s_he doesn't fancy me._

For the next few days, I secretly sulked. I laughed with the guys and played Quidditch, which pretty much consisted of my life. No, it was the small things that took the blunt of my discreet depression. At meal times, I didn't eat as heartily as would be typical. My sleeps were restless, feeling more like a long six-hour doze. Most noticeable, perhaps, was my quiet, subtle presence in class; long gone from my mind were the thoughts of pranks and cheeky remarks. My friends of course knew me too well not to notice the slight changes in my behavior. Shock of shocks. Remus sensed something was off but was smart enough not to confront it. Sirius probably could guess what was up, and, like Remus, was smart enough not to mention it with the exception of an occasional raised eyebrow hovering above inquiring, concerned eyes. Even Peter sensed something, but probably thought I'd ream him out if he brought it up.

I don't know why I was so stricken. If I were to wager a guess I would say that it was the first time my awareness of Lily's dislike towards me sunk in. I didn't even know I cared that much about her until I realized she didn't want me. It hurt. Bad. I didn't crack up or turn into a human hosepipe, but, as said before, my well-being definitely took a nose-dive. I also hurt. Like literally. Heartaches aren't all metaphoric. I physically hurt. My insides ached at the rejection.

The most horrible part of it was that Lily was everywhere. We always seemed to pass in the hallways, our eyes meeting occasionally. When I would be about to sit down for a meal, she would be standing up to leave. I didn't even try to cause or plan any of these events either! If anything, I was doing my best to avoid them, but it was as if fate was making a mockery out of me. Now more than ever our paths collided. It was hardest when I didn't actually see her. I would hear her laugh in the Gryffindor Common Room and jerk my head up only to force it down, cursing my instinct to care, all the while knowing it was in her instincts to do otherwise. Or perhaps with my peripheral vision I would catch a glimpse of her flaming hair as our respective staircases shifted. I wouldn't actually see her, or at least not most of her, but I always knew she was there. It was eerie.

It was our responsibility at the end of Potions to write our name on a flagon and pour our finished product in it. As I walked back to my desk from handing Slughorn my finished sample of well completed Draught of the Living Death, I passed Lily's desk. Even though it hurt, I followed Moony's advice and kept my eyes to the stone floor. Surprisingly, she did not do the same.

"Hey, Potter! What's up with your hair?" I was in shock. Why was she talking to me? And initiating a conversation to boot!? There were only three she might converse with me: it was necessary (classwork or the like), she was nobly sticking up for somebody like Snivellus or that _dreadful _Bertram Aubrey, or she was making some cheek remark about me. The latter happened very rarely, but I thought this occasion might fall into it. And yet, I didn't sense any belittlement in her tone.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" My hand engaged in a familiar ascension movement to my hair. I patted it, looking for any misplaced objects.

"Well, nothing, I guess. It just has been looking marginally flat for the past few days now. I was beginning to wonder if you had stopped messing it up for your entertainment." And then,_then _she gave me a small smile. By now the entire class, including Slughorn, was listening in, with varying levels of discreetness. It was hardly a wonder they were all interesting, seeing as Lily and I have probably never ever had a civil conversation as such. I realized that she was flirting with me. Well, almost flirting. Not really. But kind of. Not a strong, I-want-to-shag-you flirting, but a mere sweet almost-flirting. So Moony's advice had worked after all! I wondered why I even doubted him in the first place, when he was always the sensible one. My heart became my third leg and gave a kick.

My response to her reply, the only response my startled brain could offer, was to mess up my hair. I gave her a sheepish grin, to which she blinked politely, and returned to my seat. While packing up my ingredients it dawned on me that my mates weren't the only ones who noticed something amiss. I supposed that if my sleeping and eating habits were out of order and my personality was being trodden on, it would make sense that my good looks also would take a blow. I mess up my hair subconsciously, but I can still sometimes remember doing it. And wouldn't you know, I can't remember messing with my hair for the past few days, which it explains it's abnormal flatness and non-sexiness.

The following morning at breakfast I was nibbling on some food with my mates with hair returned to its normal appearance. Lily arrived at the Gryffindor table later than usual. Not that I was keeping track of where she was, and not that I knew her usual routine, or anything creepy like that. I was totally keeping Lily Evans as far away from my mind as possible. Even though I forced myself to ignore her, I couldn't help but notice that her face was pale, and I guessed that she had recently belonged to sleep's clutches. A single tress of her auburn hair dangled limply from what looked like a hastily-made bun.

She was about to tuck into her porridge but realized her need for brown sugar, which happened to be so conveniently located in front of me.

"Potter, the brown sugar, if you please."

"Sure," and in the split second both our hands had a hold on the dish, our eyes locked. It seemed to me that her face was a whole lot paler than it was a second ago, because in comparison to her eyes, her face could have belonged to a zombie. Her eyes, help me Merlin, were gorgeous. I mentally murdered myself for thinking that. Their shape and color were beautiful, but that is not what made them gorgeous. Evan's eyes, Lily's eyes, were alive. I know, kind of a weird description, but it's true. Her eyes looked alive. They were fresh, vivid, pristine, and stimulated. I don't know why I noticed her eyes then; I've sure as heck have looked in them before. I knew they were pretty, but not like this. Maybe it was one of the few times we looked into each other's eyes and Lily's weren't on fire with anger or disappointment. I swallowed a bunch of air and returned to my own now dull breakfast.

Later on that day, most of the sixth-year Gryffindors were on the move from a free period, with the exception of a few from Arithmacy, to N.E.W.T Charms. Moony and Lily, being the only two Gryffindors in Arithmacy, beat the rest of us to Charms. Moony was first in the queue. Lily, on the other hand, was on the other side of the hallway conversing with Bertram Aubrey.

A thing about Aubrey. He's a loser. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't the only person who saw him this way. He sucks, at everything. He's a coward and a cry-baby. He has this horribly flat blonde hair that can in no way complete with mine. He mumbles, my gosh. And he has a red nose. How? I dunno. But his extreme level of patheticness is public knowledge. And that's why he hangs out with Lily. Lily's nice to everyone. She's especially nice to people who desperately need someone to be nice to them, people like Aubrey. Fortunately for Aubrey, and unfortunately for me, Lily is brilliant at _both_ Potions and Charms, and tutors him in both. And it's so _obvious_ that he has a huge crush on her, but he's too much of a wuss to approach her about it.

Aubrey would help himself a lot if he didn't associate himself with Lily. He and I have crossed paths in the past, and that squirmy little fifth year definitely got the worse end of things. The little squirt is now terrified of me. The friction between us would decrease dramatically if he stopped chatting with Lily every single time he spotted her. Sure, his Potions and Charms grades would take a nosedive, but you would think that's a reasonable sacrifice to end the way that I constantly hunt him out and make him the subject of our pranks. 'Course, I would never leave Aubrey completely alone; he is a public loser. But he would be _a_ target instead of _the_ target.

Anyway. Gryffindors on their way to Charms. Lily's back was towards the approaching group, and Aubrey had a full view. The latter's rapt attention on the former vanished only to be replaced by a fixation dominated by dread mingled with horror at the very sight of me. Taking noticed of the sudden, oh-so-noticeable drop of confidence in Aubrey, lovely Lily spun curiously on her heels, some of her fringes popping out of the bun as a result. Her features of mild curiosity curdled to form a hard, defensive expression. She was only too aware of the relationship Aubrey and I shared. Moony flashed me a look of warning. It's surprising how much people can say without uttering a single word.

I halted along with the rest of my house.

"Evans. Moony," I nodded at them in correspondence to their name. Lily pursed her lips, convinced that I was going to attempt something that would upset delicate Aubrey. I turned my gaze to Aubrey, blinked lazily before pulling out a wicked grin that I reserved for pranking and wooing.

"Aubrey," he didn't deserve a nod. He mumbled something to his feet that was incoherent.

"Sorry," I said politely. "Didn't catch that." Aubrey nervously looked up at me, then at Lily, and then spluttered something that sounded Swedish again. Before Lily could say or do anything, I hiked my book bag further up my shoulder, shot her a sly smile, and strutted over to Moony, who was lounging on the wall a few paces away, with Wormtail and a sniggering Padfoot in toe.

The longer Flitwick kept us waiting the more irritated I became. Aubrey was a bloody fifth-year; he didn't have any free periods, so he should be waiting in his own queue for his next class. Then it hit me: the few extra minutes he spent basking in Lily's presence was worth a detention or a point deduction from Dufferpuff. My insides turned sour. I moodily watched the two of them talk animatedly from a side-glance. I suddenly had a deep yearning to be in Aubrey's place.

"Jealous?" an under-toned voice said.

My eyes jerked back to my friends, all of whom were watching me with stifled sniggers. Did any of them understand how hard it was for me to just stand there? No, of course not. I gave a sigh, didn't answer, and glanced back at Lily and Aubrey, only to catch a darting glimpse of a pair of green, vivid eyes focused on me. Danger. Did she hear what Sirius said?

My contemplation was interrupted by Flitwick calling us in. Aubrey, apparently oblivious to the time, was vomited out of his Lily-fantasies. He gave a yelp and exclaimed he had to get to class. No, really? Half-way down the corridor, he turned and yelled, "Don't forget, Lily!"

"I won't!" she replied. "Seven o'clock by Gregory of the Summit!" Gregory of the Summit, eh? Looks like the Marauders would be busy on a date with Bertram Aubrey right _before_ seven o'clock tonight. I flashed my mates a grin. Lily entered the classroom a few paces before Aubrey turned around the corner of the corridor. She wouldn't see, so what she doesn't know can't hurt her. I grabbed my wand from my robes and sent a Tripping Hex in the direction of Aubrey just before I entered the classroom. A satisfying _thup_ of a book bag and a _splat _of a human body told me my aim was as good as ever.

In Charms, Flitwick wanted the class to observe the diagram of a certain spell, the Total Shield Charm (_Protego Totalum)_. I felt that it was rather pointless to dedicate a whole class period to a spell whose effects were invisible, especially one that Hogwarts was already placed under. It was also rather pointless for Flitwick to make us watch his moving diagram of this invisible spell, and make us mimic something when we couldn't even tell if we were doing it right. With nothing better to capture my attention, the satisfaction of hexing Aubrey vanished. It's not like it made Lily like me, did it?

Padfoot laid a piece of parchment in between us and lazily tapped his wand to the paper as Flitwick rambled on about obstacles of the Total Shield Charm. Words formed.

_So how's the wooing going?_

Gosh, usually this playful banter I could laugh along with, but this time it hurt. I gritted my teeth as my wand made contact with the parchment. Padfoot's words faded away and mine replaced them.

_If you can't say anything nice, piss off._

What can I say? I still had my pride. He knew me too well to take my language seriously and be offended.

_Touchy, are we? _Padfoot wrote. I could hear the cheek he would say that with. I didn't reply to his note. I stared glassy-eyed as Flitwick demonstrated the wand movement absent of the incantation. Padfoot, too was zoning out. Wormtail was listening, but he looked confused. Moony was, typically, taking notes. It was ten minutes later when Padfoot restarted the conversation.

_You really like her, don't you?_

I was shocked by his lack of reserve. He was my best mate, sure, but we hardly ever got into serious business like this. Whenever we wrote notes like this, I can always imagine my friends' tones of voice. I couldn't this time. The fact that he interrupted our zoning time by that question meant that he had been zoning about it. I glanced at him and saw that his face looked wrong. I guess I would say he looked at me with an expression somewhere in-between concerned and resigned.

I looked at Lily. Her pale face was fixed towards Flitwick. Her lovely green eyes were concentrating on the wand movements with bright illumination. One hand was playing with a loose tress of hair. She reached back to feel her bun and realized quite a bit of it had fallen out earlier. She let down her hair to reveal gentle waves. As she ran her hands through her flaming hair, her concentration on Flitwick slipped when she noticed my stare. Green eyes met my hazel, and I knew: I wanted her. I was bloody crazy for her. And it wasn't because she was one of the things I couldn't have, no. It wasn't that I wanted her under the category of All I Ever Wanted . . . And Got. No. In that Charms class I realized that she was all I ever wanted. She was beautiful, but not in any obvious manner. She was pretty, yes, but to see her true beauty you had to stare at her for a long time and become mesmerized by her presence. Lily was also kind and compassionate to all. She was strong-willed and feisty; she stuck up for herself and for others. Merlin, I was crazy for her. And I didn't bleeding care that she didn't like me then. I liked her, and that's what matterd. For now, at least.

With a rush of unhindered affection for Lily and my usual cocky, awesome self, I shot Ms. Lovely Green Eyes my trademark grin. I turned back to the parchment, tapped my wand, and replied to Padfoot.

_Sorry, mate. _

I grinned sheepishly and messed up my hair. Padfoot grinned back. More than anything, I think he was glad that I was my normal self again. And I was. With a mischievous grin and twinkling eyes, I tapped the parchment for a third time.

_So, tonight. We need to do something to Aubrey._

Padfoot gave his wolf-like, trademark grin. He twiddled his wand as he brainstormed. Before joining him to plan mischief, I looked at Lily again. I think she knew I was looking at her but this time didn't return my stare. That was okay. One day she would. One day she would realize that I was all she ever wanted. One day she would go on a date with me. And in one lifetime, together we would discover the meaning of happiness.

Lily Evans, you are all I ever wanted.


End file.
